Wings of Frost

  Contents

  Speak The Language

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  What Now?

  Also by JD Monroe

  About the Author

  WINGS OF FROST Copyright 2019 by J.D. Monroe.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Mighty Fine Books, LLC

  PO Box 956

  Evans, GA 30809

  Editing by Gayla Leath

  Cover Design by Celtic Ruins Designs

  Book Design and Ebook Formatting by Katzilla Designs

  ISBN: 978-1-944142-30-8

  First Edition: 2019

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Created with Vellum

  The Dragons of Ascavar – the Kadirai – have their own language and customs. While all terms are explained in context, if you want to follow along with the language of the dragons and learn more about their culture, you can check out this link to the Kadirai glossary on my website:

  | SPEAK THE LANGUAGE |

  Warfare had changed over the last century. In his prime, Velati Rimewing had flown into battle with an armored rider on his back and a scaled chest full of icy rage primed to freeze a battlefield. Now he carried a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts on his hip and wore a tiny wireless earpiece transmitting disembodied voices directly into his head.

  A thick veil of cloud cover dimmed the daylight to a hazy gray, darkening the blue-green expanse of forest in upstate New York. A mélange of scents hung in the cool morning air; rain-dampened earth, the natural rot of things dying and returning to the soil, and the distinct smell of dragon blood running hot in his companions’ veins.

  Four people lingered in cover, waiting for the report from the two forward scouts. Velati and his hybrid partner, Rihz, stood shoulder to shoulder. The smaller man’s heartbeat accelerated with each passing minute. The hybrid swore this wasn’t his first mission, but if he’d done anything more dangerous than driving transport, Velati would cut off his own wings.

  “We’re in range,” a quiet female voice said over the radio. “Two sentries at the front, two on the loading dock around the side. Mounted speakers just like Skyblaze said.”

  Velati glanced at Erevan Skyblaze, the flame dragon who was taking point on the operation. A satisfied smile crept across the younger man’s face. A petite woman with tightly braided dark hair crouched behind the tree next to him. Sparks danced along her fingers as she raised one hand and said, “I’ll handle the speakers when we get there.”

  “Stick to the plan.” The gruff, disembodied voice belonged to Sohan Shadowbane, who was overseeing the mission remotely. He and Sohan had been brothers-in-arms for many years, helping turn the tide and eventually put an end to the brutal war that had raged between the dragon shifters and the Raspolin, an upstart cult of self-appointed dragon-slayers.

  It had been months since he’d heard from Sohan, but they often had long periods of quiet and caught up when they could. That was the nature of a friendship that had spanned nearly two centuries.

  This call had been different. Usually they picked up where they’d last left off, with Velati telling Sohan about ridiculous drunken tattoo requests, and Sohan filling him in on the latest bullshit surrounding the queen at Skyward Rest. He’d known immediately something was up when Sohan didn’t have a retort ready for Velati’s greeting of “hey, asshole.”

  “I hate to get serious after not calling for months, but I need your help. Things…things might be getting bad again,” Sohan said.

  The smile that always materialized on his face when talking to his old friend evaporated. “What things?”

  “You might have been right. We may not have finished the Raspolin.”

  “Hold on,” Velati said. With dread turning his lunch to an icy lump in his belly, he’d walked out to the lobby of his tattoo shop, where three clients were waiting to see artists. After telling his shop manager, Molly, to reschedule his appointments, he shut himself in his office. “Tell me everything.”

  For the next half hour, Sohan told him about the events of the last month, culminating with the discovery of a facility full of brutalized dragons being drained of blood, along with evidence that dozens more had been killed and dumped with no trace. The Raspolin methods were more sophisticated now, but it was a stark reminder of the darker days of war, when their enemy would slit dragons’ throats and catch whatever they could before death claimed the dragon and left a still human shell.

  Sohan, Velati, and their other comrades had spent decades after the war eradicating the Raspolin and destroying every bit of their knowledge so this would never happen again. Clearly, they’d failed. Just as Velati had feared.

  The Raspolin hadn’t merely survived. Like an unholy phoenix, they’d been reborn more powerful than before. Calling themselves the Chosen, they’d pieced together long-lost magic and technology and upgraded it with new cruelties. They had successfully built a Crimson Elegy, a magical device that could force a dragon to transform against their will. If they’d gotten that far, what else could they do?

  “They already went after Dyadra.” Before Velati could raise a protest, Sohan said, “She’s fine, don’t worry.”

  “She didn’t tell me,” Velati said, indignant. “When was this?”

  “A couple weeks ago. She probably didn’t want to frighten you,” he said. “She and the family are headed here soon. I hate to ask, but—”

  “Tell me what you need,” Velati said. Before Sohan even asked, he was already planning for an extended absence. The shop could stay open, and he would smooth things over somehow with his long-time clients who’d had appointments on the books for months. “This supersedes everything else. I’ll be on a flight by tonight if you need me there.”

  There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. A quavering hint of fear lurked in his friend’s gruff voice. “You don’t know how good it is to hear you say that.” They’d once called Sohan Shadowbane the Black Fortress. Utterly unshakable, even in the face of impossible odds. Velati could count on one hand the times he’d sensed genuine fear in Sohan, and each time, they’d suffered a devastating loss. His instincts were never wrong. “This is bad. I don’t know how it got this far without us realizing. It may already be too far gone.”

  “Nothing’s too far gone,” Velati said.

  Another long pause. “I hope you’re right. See you soon, brother.”

  A few days later, Velati arrived in New York, meeting Sohan and his team in a rental cabin a few miles from their target. While he worked with the young, inexperienced team t
o plan the incursion, he caught a few furtive gazes of curiosity mixed with awe. What had they heard? The older ones might know Velati Rimewing as a hero. The younger ones would know him as a rebellious outcast, or maybe worse. Neither version was entirely the truth.

  Now he was partnered with Rihz, a nervous hybrid, preparing to dive headfirst into a viper’s nest. Erevan Skyblaze and his hybrid partner, Natalie, had previously shut down a Chosen stronghold in North Carolina. Their experience had provided valuable tactical information for this incursion. Along with recovering old magic, the Chosen had also embraced modern technology; they’d amplified the devastation of the Elegy with speakers and microphones, extending its effective range.

  “Remember,” Sohan said. “Leave them alive if possible. Limit the fire. Keep as much intact as you can.”

  Zeltira, the female wind dragon who’d scouted ahead, snorted in derision over the comms. “I can’t promise that.”

  “You better fucking work it out,” Sohan said. “We need information more than a bunch of corpses.”

  “We’ve got it,” Zeltira’s partner, Emmett, said in a mild voice.

  With the return of their old enemy, Sohan had fallen back on old, effective strategies. Dragon-human hybrids were unaffected by the Elegy, and they were able to extend their protection to a full-blooded dragon through a mental connection. Back then, Velati and Sohan had flown into battle with hybrids on their backs, trusting their partners to shield their minds while they rained destruction onto their enemies.

  “When Natalie’s in range of the building, it’s a go,” Sohan said. “Zaare en tahl Isinaa.” Stay in the Skymother’s sight. The old blessing was familiar, but chilling as the memories of war flooded back.

  Trying to shake the sense of foreboding, Velati clapped Rihz on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Stay by me. I need your help, all right?”

  Rihz nodded. “Okay. I’ve got your back.” His shaking voice did not inspire confidence.

  Darting quietly down the path, Erevan led the team toward the house. Natalie followed close behind him, while Velati and Rihz stayed back a few yards, always waiting for Erevan’s signal before proceeding. His heart pounded with anticipation, though he was laser-focused now. This was like old times, and it was surprising how normal it felt even after all these years.

  Five minutes brought them close enough to begin their attack on the facility. Zeltira and Emmett were already there, crouched behind a fallen log, and the rest of the team quickly ducked into cover with them. While the others wore tactical gear, Zeltira wore a loose black robe, ready to transform.

  The large building appeared to be a mansion, an island of brick and glass rising from the dark sea of trees. Large black speakers were mounted high on the walls, protected by glinting steel cages.

  “Guess they learned from last time,” Erevan said quietly. He glanced at Natalie, his intense gaze hinting at more than a tactical partnership. “Hope your aim is solid. Are you ready?”

  She nodded and darted across the path to join Zeltira. The dragon woman grasped Natalie’s hand, and they faded from sight. The shimmering barrier around them caught the hint of light, then faded again. If he stared at where they’d just been standing, he could detect the faintest irregularity in the air, but it faded quickly. While Velati appreciated his own destructive capabilities, he often envied the stealthy nature of the wind dragons.

  A few seconds later, a faint crystalline hum tickled his ears, preceding a burst of energy from the empty space down the path. A jagged bolt of electricity arced into the closest speaker. Smoke drifted out of the black box.

  “That’s my girl,” Erevan said. Suspicion confirmed.

  “Focus, Skyblaze,” Sohan said. Erevan pressed his lips together, though they still betrayed the hint of a smile.

  As Zeltira and Natalie circled the house, Velati watched for movement, any hint that they’d been detected. Everything was still and quiet. Perhaps no one was home.

  Right. Like he’d ever been that lucky.

  “We’re headed to the last one,” Natalie said. “It’s still quiet over here.”

  “Give us the sign when it’s done. We’ll make our move,” Erevan said.

  There was a long silence, and Velati looked back at Rihz one last time. “You okay?”

  The younger hybrid’s dark eyes were still wide, but he stood tall, shoulders thrown back. “I’m okay.”

  Please don’t let this kid get us killed, Velati thought. The Elegy didn’t care about his centuries of battle experience. If they triggered it, he would be entirely in Rihz’s shaking hands.

  “About to hit the last one,” Natalie said.

  “Get it and come back to me,” Erevan said.

  “It’s done. We’re on our way back,” she said.

  Footsteps crunched through leaves, growing closer and faster. The shimmering air parted to reveal Zeltira and Natalie running toward them. Natalie ran toward Erevan, while Zeltira peeled off her robe and dropped to her knees in the damp leaves. Blue light surrounded her as she shifted into her dragon form. The smoky smell of Kadirai energy burst into the air, overwhelming the subtle scents of nature.

  Where the pale-haired woman had once stood was a sapphire-scaled dragon with wickedly sharp spines radiating from her head like a spiked crown. Snapping her wings out, Zeltira gently bumped Emmett with her nose. He grabbed one of the protruding spines on her neck and climbed onto her back. Within two strokes of her wings, the pair disappeared into a shimmering mirage.

  “Go,” Erevan said. The four of them ran in single file toward the loading dock. Two beefy male guards in black tactical gear flanked the side door. One looked up, eyes going wide. Natalie shot him in the throat before he could grab the radio on his belt. He groaned as he slumped against the wall. Erevan jumped the last ten feet to slam the other guard into the wall, covering his mouth with one hand. While Erevan pinned the struggling guard, Velati shot him in the thigh.

  “Anders, report in,” a brusque female voice said. The tinny voice came from the radio clipped to the guard’s belt.

  Velati scrambled to grab the radio and raised it to his lips. “All clear.” There was a brief pause. Did they buy it?

  “Keep moving,” Erevan said. He patted the man down, then pulled a key card from his belt.

  Velati mimicked the motion, finding a similar card on the man Natalie had brought down. Tucking the key into his pocket, he looked back at Rihz. “Let’s go.”

  Into the crucible.

  Marlena Nightrunner knew she should be serious and stoic but being on duty was exciting. Her colleague, Nikolaus, didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm. Clearly, he hadn’t spent years meditating and studying while everyone else got to work for the cause.

  Brimming with energy, Marlena made a circuit of the Forest House. Nikolaus rolled his eyes when she called it that, saying it was “Lab B.” As if she didn’t know that. Prior to arriving, she’d studied the blueprints for hours and could get to any point in the house within thirty seconds. She also didn’t have to constantly check the rotating security codes like everyone else did. He mistook her excitement for stupidity, but that was his mistake, not hers.

  Things were quiet but tense here at the Forest House. Lab A, their facility in North Carolina, had been destroyed by the malevolent dragons living in nearby Asheville. In one deadly incursion, the dragons had destroyed years of hard work, killed nearly a dozen loyal initiates, and captured Dornan, one of the highest-ranking members of the Chosen.

  The fall of Lab A had shaken everyone. Operations had gone smoothly for so long that they weren’t mentally prepared to deal with failure. There had been no word of Dornan. They only knew he’d been captured, and she shuddered to think of how the dragons were torturing him. Master Sidran often warned them that this war would be long and difficult. Some of their comrades would fall but Vystus would see their sacrifice as worthy, and they would be rewarded. Divine approval or not, no one wanted to be the next to fall.

  Since the attack, the
Chosen had increased security at all of their remaining facilities. The external speakers for the Elegy were fitted with strong metal cages to slow down attacking dragons. Furthermore, each facility was now protected by one of the Aesdar in training, a powerful hybrid like Marlena. She couldn’t help thinking that if she’d been on duty at Lab A, Dornan would still be safe.

  No. That was foolish pride. The glory belonged to Vystus, not to her. His divine power ensured that the Kadirai were no longer the top of the food chain.

  She was.

  Other than Nikolaus, Marlena was the only person assigned inside on the ground floor. Arianna DeRode and several of her assistants worked on the subjects in the basement. Two other guards slept upstairs after their twelve-hour shift.

  While she was happy to be on duty, she was content to keep watch on the ground floor instead of being at Arianna’s side. Being downstairs was unsettling, amidst the eerie chorus of quiet breathing and overlapping heartbeats. When she arrived two weeks ago, she’d been horrified to see comatose Kadirai strapped to steel tables in the basement. Prior to leaving Haven, no one had told her what was actually housed in Lab B, only that it was a critical asset. She’d immediately called her trainer, Catrina Savas, to demand an explanation. Catrina assured her the Kadirai subjects were all criminals, and their purification pleased Vystus. The spilling of blood redeemed their evil, reaping goodness from poisoned soil. Her explanation settled Marlena’s conscience, but she still avoided the basement.

  Making a circuit around the ground floor, Marlena checked each room in turn. She paused in the sunroom at the side of the house. Organized shelves of medical equipment filled the large tiled space. Double doors opened onto a patio that had been converted to a loading dock. Usually she saw two silhouettes through the frosted glass windows. The windows were clear. Marlena’s heart skipped a beat, and she touched her wireless earpiece. “Anders. Report in.”